A Fairytales Nightmare
by Uhlowl22
Summary: A great Shakespearean tragedy or a fairytale ending...The story of two families, two would be lovers, and the love and lies that bring them together and rip them apart. I do not own Heroes or any of the characters...that pleasure belongs to Tim Kring.
1. Prologue

Prologue

1975

In a hospital room somewhere in the City of New York, a baby, having just entered the world, wails loudly for the comfort of his mother. Exhausted, his mother collapses back onto her compressed hospital pillow eagerly waiting to hold her son. His eyes are soft puffy slits barely open to the early morning light pouring through the windows, and his fist automatically finds its way to his mouth as he seeks familiarity in this strange, sharp new world. With her son cleaned and swaddled in a crisp blue blanket, snuggling against her chest, the two drift off into a well deserved slumber…

"…how can we?" the mother of the infant beseeches of her husband.

"Because," he answers forlornly, "you know they're never wrong. And because this might be the only way to save innocent people…to save _him_."

Both parents turn their sorrowful eyes to the day old infant as he gurgles contently in his mother's arms.

"We will have to lie. One of the biggest we've ever told." The mother sniffles, never shifting her gaze, memorizing every inch of her son's face.

"I know but…we knew this was coming." Her husband reminds somberly.

"Yes…we did." she whispers. "But that doesn't make it any easier, does it?"

Her husband does not respond, knowing the answer is evident. He moves to join his wife and child, on the way looking down at a file of papers next to the bed that require both parent's signatures. For a long time they stare adoringly…longingly… remorsefully at their child while a woman silently enters the room, waiting for just the right moment to interrupt.

"Excuse me but…well…it's time." The woman speaks apologetically, but with professionalism.

"Already?" The mother questions with surprise and reluctance.

A jagged knot forms in the pit of her stomach, one that blossoms out of the idea that in a few moments…with the flick of a pen…her son would no longer be _her_ son.

Her husband signs first, then her, and it is done. The woman takes the baby into her arms along with the signed documents and leaves the husband and wife to console each other.

"Someday we will see him again. Someday Gabriel will know us." The husband offers empty assurances to his wife.

She smiles sadly but knowingly and speaks under her breath. "Yes, I believe we might."


	2. Once Upon a Time

1

Once Upon a Time…

Once upon a time…There lived a boy named Gabriel Gray. He was a sweet child, loved overbearingly and expectantly by his mother Virginia, and apathetically by his father Martin. Gabriel was as happy as an intuitive and perceptive child could be in a household fraught with discord. Though, no matter the effort young Gabriel put forth he repeatedly failed to win little more than a raised eyebrow from his father or an encouraging yet condescending "you can do better" from his mother. This instilled in him the sentimental desire to one day find some one that would love him for him, and not what they thought he could be, or because they had to.

One night, sometime after Gabriel had turned 12, Mr. and Mrs. Gray died in a fire that had raged through and consumed the apartment building in which they had lived. Only Gabriel survived the fateful blaze as he had taken to sneaking out at night to his father's workshop close by. There, he would silently work on refining the watch making skills his father had been forbearing enough to teach him. Now, he was left without even the piteous bit of contentment his simple life had given him. And as if the trauma to the young man's heart and mind had not been ample enough, he was soon after told that his uncle Samson Gray was nowhere to be found and so young Gabriel would have to be placed into foster care.

Days went by, turning into weeks, while Gabriel sat unnoticed in his new and unfamiliar bedroom, obsessively building his very own time piece out of spare parts snuck from his father's now abandoned shop. Then one day he received a visitor. A social worker sent to tell him that long ago, when he was just a baby, he had been _adopted_ by the Grays. Though that news seemed to young Gabriel a secret that could not be eclipsed, it was not the real reason for the visit. Upon hearing of the tragedy that had befallen the family, his _birth parents_ wanted nothing more than to give him the home they wished to have given him in the first place.

Gabriel's reaction could only be described as convivial. For so long he dreamt of belonging to a happy family where expressing love and affection came as naturally as smiling and now, he had the chance. He wasted no time in readying himself, gathering books and clothing into a bag, preparing to wait in unbearable anticipation for his new life to begin. His imagination ran wild as he pictured what his real parents would be like, if he had siblings…would he be good enough for them in ways he had not been for Virginia and Martin?

The next day when they arrived to take him home he almost couldn't bring himself to look outside, afraid that it had all been a terribly wonderful dream that would never come true. He knelt on the couch, ducking beneath the window as the car pulled up, but the inextinguishable desire to compare fantasy with reality inched his eyes above the cushions and over the faces of his parents. They were so much more than he had ever imagined. His mother was beautiful and had an air about her that spoke of strength and intelligence behind the kind smile and keen eyes. And his father…he looked stoic and commanding as he shook the hand of Gabriel's meek social worker. Gabriel could feel his heart pounding out of his chest and the near invisible trembling of his hands as the three adults neared the front door and finally entered the house. Gabriel turned at once and cast his eyes down shyly just as they rounded the corner into the living room where he had waited for what may as well have been his entire life.

"Gabriel?" The social worker tried coaxing him with a tender tone but he was a bundle of nerves, and could not find the courage to raise his eyes to the faces of his parents. "He's rather shy." She explained with a terse chuckle.

"Is he? Well, there's nothing wrong with that." A voice more pleasant than the song of a wind chime breezed into his ears with nothing less than a euphoria that widened his eyes and had his heart skipping a beat. It was his mother's voice.

"Shyness is a permissible quality in a child. It shows a capacity for humility and respect." His father spoke with a tenor of confidence and pride, a tone that Martin Gray had _never_ used when speaking of his son.

Gabriel began counting the grains in the wood of the floor beneath his feet when he felt the seat cushions dip on his right and a soft comforting arm drape around his shoulders. Slowly…ever so slowly…Gabriel raised his stare to find his mother sitting next to him, smiling with glistening eyes. He couldn't help but smile back bashfully back as their eyes met for the first time since he had been born.

"There you are." She playfully pinched his chin and placed her hand atop his fists as they sat clenched in his lap. "We've waited a long time to see you again Gabriel." She looked back at her husband who nodded ever so slightly in agreement. "We are your parents' darling. My name is Angela, and that handsome man is your father, Arthur." She spoke softly as the smile now glowed on her face.

Gabriel's glasses inched down his nose, tickling as they went, but he wouldn't have moved either one of his hands from beneath hers for the world. Though his throat was parched and mind raced with a plethora of questions, he managed to find his voice and timidly ask, "What's…what's my last name?"

Angela smiled at him and turned to her husband who stepped forward and answered proudly. "Your name is Petrelli, son. Gabriel Petrelli."

Elle Bishop was a quirky little girl with a disposition all her own. The sun shone with her smile and laughter, and she was adored by her mother and father who lavished attention on, and entertained every whim of their only child. Her father, Bob Bishop, was the head of a very important company and often spent days away from his loving wife and daughter. It was on one of those nights that Bob was tied up by work that a small untended candle turned into a violent fire that reduced the Bishop home to a smoldering scorch mark. Elle's mother fought to the last to save her daughter's life, and succeeded before succumbing to the choking smoke and heat.

Though she was only a small child at the time, Elle was deeply affected by the loss of her mother, as was her father. Bob did not falter in his duties however, either as company head or single parent, and persevered through his own grief to comfort the grief of his child. Though a mother's touch is traditionally the more soothing, Elle was put much at ease by Bob's consoling efforts and the two of them were able to move on in time, always keeping the living memory of their lost loved one in their hearts.

Elle grew into her adventurous audacity, everyday reminding Bob a little more of his wife. He remained in awe of his daughter's vivacious attitude toward life, and her tendency to take things as they came…but sometimes he worried that he was not enough. Not even Bob's constant attempts to fill the void in Elle's upbringing caused her to give pause in her conquest to make the most of every day. If there was one lesson to be gleamed from her mother's death it was to live life, for you never know when it might end…a belief Elle refused to be put away with childish things.

The dissension between the Petrelli and Bishop families had grown deep roots over the years, tracing back to the initial random emergence of what are referred to as anomalistic abilities. Both patriarchs and the remaining matriarch in each family wholeheartedly disagreed on the manner in which these special people should be handled, sparking a devastating and continuous feud between their respective organizations, family members and employees.

The Petrelli family owned and operated an establishment known as Pinehurst. Of course its public façade boasted an array of interests; conducting scientific research and development, donating to a number of charitable causes, and it goes without saying that they held a very persuasive position in government with the eldest son, Nathan Petrelli, holding the office of Senator of New York.

What went on inside the walls ranged from detainment of dangerous individuals awaiting rehabilitation, to volunteer testing of abilities. Pinehurst was a veritable training institute set on educating special people on their own abilities as well as the community to which they would henceforth belong. To put it shortly…The Petrellis were committed to one day integrating the secret of their existence into the lives of every person in the world, and showing benefit of their being. They bided their time however by policing their own kind, but never abandoned hope that a misguided special could be shown a brighter path, and their impressive success rate was just one point of contention between the two families.

Every single member of the Petrellis had at least one ability. Only Nathan with flight and his mother Angela with precognitive dreaming were left out of the multiplicity. Arthur, Peter, and the youngest son Gabriel, had a number of abilities as all three shared a commonality… some form of power absorption. Gabriel was a special case among special cases. His ability, intuitive aptitude, had given way to understanding the emotion associated with the use of another's ability…and once Gabriel understood something there was not a thing to be done to reverse it. Peter, a true empathic mimic, need only be close to some one when their ability triggered to acquire their uniqueness. It was only Arthur who, while he possessed a surplus of tricks, had the distinction of permanently relieving a person of their ability. His talent was the mystery behind Pinehurst's success, for if anyone could not be assuaged of their penchant for chaos, then Arthur would simply alleviate them of their gift. Together the five of them, surrounded by a myriad of gifted personnel, made Pinehurst what it was.

The Bishop family owned and operated an establishment much more clandestine than Pinehurst called simply, The Company. Where Pinehurst operated under it's actual name and out in the open, for the most part, The Company hid behind a front called Primatech Paper. This strange situation of animosity existing between the presidents of a multifarious corporation and a paper company had many citizens scratching their heads as they read the latest feud headline in their morning newspapers. Although the truth of their motivations remained unknown, the rancor between them did not, and more often than desired garnered the sort of attention that both families would rather have avoided.

The Company's philosophy was not one of inclined leniency toward special people who abused their abilities, nor was it a wish of Bob Bishop that the world ever know about people like himself and those he tended to. When some one was caught by The Company, that was where they stayed, especially in cases of powerful and uncooperative specials. Their building was equipped with a rather expansive holding facility, not half of which was filled, but those inhabiting the various levels of containment couldn't tell the difference. Their main goal was to remove any threatening person from general population of the city as well as secretly observe and record those who had nothing more than an interesting ability. It was not unheard of that a harmless special citizen might disappear for a day, returning to their life with no memory of the absence.

Many people worked for The Company, both normal and special, but the bread and butter of Bishop's vision was the way he paired his agents. It was internally known as, "one of us, one of them" and it was what gave him the impressive rate of capture. Pinehurst might be able to rehabilitate them, but nobody knew better how to bag and tag than The Company's number one team…a man named Noah Bennet and Bob Bishop's own daughter, Elle. Bob was a stickler for continuity and loyalty, and it showed in his staff. Noah had a 20 year history with The Company and was not only the second most loyal agent he employed, but was unsurpassed when it came down to living in a admittedly gray area. Though, he did have a personal investment in Bob's desire for secrecy, as his own daughter Claire had an ability known as rapid cellular regeneration, in the proper scientific parlance. He didn't want the world knowing about his daughter any more than Bob wanted the same for Elle.

Bob had watched Elle grow into the confident prevailing woman that stood in front of him every morning smiling sweetly as he handed his dream team an assignment. It was not misleading to say that Bob had hoped his little girl would develop an ability, but having alchemy himself never led to anticipation that she would develop something as notable as electrokinesis. Again, Elle had surpassed her father's expectations, winning from him enough respect and admiration that he lately hinged The Company's entire future success on her competence, so that she might one day take his place. Her strength and levelheadedness made him the proudest father in a 100 mile radius...though Arthur Petrelli might have argued against that point.


	3. By Invitation Only

2

By Invitation Only

"Mom…Gabriel!? Hellooo, anybody here?" Peter Petrelli's voice echoed quickly through the impressive foyer of the Petrelli Estate.

From the kitchen at the end of a long hall a voice echoed, "Back here Peter."

Upon entering the kitchen Peter stopped short. His only offer of exclamation was a mocking "Wow" as he observed the cornucopia of flower arrangements, gift baskets and professionally wrapped mystery boxes strewn atop any flat surface that had not already been occupied.

"Hi honey." Angela greeted her youngest son with a smile and stuck out her cheek, awaiting a welcoming peck.

"All of these are for Nathan?" Peter entered the kitchen, finding his way through the jungle of bouquets around the massive center island to where his mother stood stirring a wonderful smelling concoction.

"Heidi called this morning complaining about the mess of gifts already littering Nathan's study, so I told her she could have the rest of them delivered here."

"Well…birthdays only come once a year right?" Peter offered sarcastically.

"Hey," she waved her wooden spoon at him, raising her eyebrows, "you only turn 40 once. And your brother has a lot of people who admire and respect him." She continued stirring with a sideways smirk brightening her sometimes tired eyes.

Peter rolled his eyes turned away from her. "Speaking of brothers, where is everyone? Thought this place would be nearing pandemonium." Peter inquired.

"The party isn't until tomorrow night…the tents are already set up, grounds are decorated, flowers will be delivered in the morning along with the food…" she paused to catch her breath, "and Nathan just called, he'll be here shortly with some last minute guest list adjustments. That assistant of his will be up all night making sure everyone invited has an _actual_ invitation or they won't get past the front gate."

"Why?" Peter asked curiously, finding the new detail a little odd.

"Your father insisted on encoded invitations to keep anyone not invited from gaining entrance to the celebration." Her confession reeked of reluctance.

"Mom…" Peter began to protest the idea.

"Don't start Peter." She glared warmly at him. "It feels like half the city has been invited and your father just wants to make sure that the party stays…" she searched for the proper words, "uneventful…in certain terms."

Peter didn't want to argue, so he let the topic drop from conversation, instead deciding to take up another cause. "Party? Is that what we're calling it? Tuxedoes, gowns, string quartets…this thing's more like a Ball don't you think?" He joked playfully.

Angela chuckled. "Yes well…it's what your brother wants, to impress all the higher ups." As an afterthought she added, "It's a shame the President isn't coming."

Mother and son shared a mischievous smile at Nathan's expense just as his voice resonated down the hall.

"Ma…Peter!?"

"Yeah Nathan, back here." Peter called out.

"Wow!" Nathan exclaimed much more enthusiastically than Peter had upon entering the kitchen. "All these for me?" He asked haughtily.

"Hello Nathan, and yes, they are all for you." Angela accepted another kiss on the cheek.

"Hey Ma. You should see my study. So many flowers the house is going to smell like them for months. Hey Pete." Nathan nodded toward his brother. "Ma, I have a few more names to go over with you, and a couple other things…unless you guys were in the middle of something." His feigned hesitation made Peter smile.

"No, actually I stopped by to talk to Gabriel."

"Oh Gabriel is at the office honey, same as your father." Angela absently answered Peter's statement.

Nathan's expression hardened noticeably. Peter caught the look, but was sure his mother had missed it and so decided best not to comment.

"I'm gonna head over there then." Peter turned to leave.

"Peter, no flying off the property please." Angela requested tightly.

Peter laughed. "No worries Mom, I drove here. See you both tomorrow night."

Nathan stayed silent until he was sure Peter was at least out of earshot, if not the house. "Why's Dad at the office, it's Saturday?"

"Nathan you know better than that. Our work waits for no one." She easily explained.

"Well I just hope whatever has him there _now_ is taken care of before tomorrow night. It would be a little uncomfortable to have to explain to half the state government that my father is working during his son's 40th birthday celebration." Nathan paced around the room pretending to find interest in the various gifts.

"Don't worry Nathan, Gabriel and your father will be there." Angela assured him.

"Well…if whatever has them there now _is_ important then Gabe should take care of it, give Dad tomorrow night off. Gabe hates parties anyway." Nathan observance of Gabriel's dislike of large, formal gatherings was not altruistic. He had no guilt in suggesting his brother miss his birthday, and he let it show.

Angela cocked an eyebrow but did not look up. "We will _all_ be there Nathan, me, your father and your brothers…both of them."

"I'm just saying...it would be no big deal. It's not like anyone would miss him."

Angela's head snapped up to Nathan's back with a firm, restrained expression on her face. She was never pleased when Nathan provokingly alluded to Gabriel's 11 year absence from the family, and even less so when he implied that it was inconsequential.

"That's enough Nathan." She said evenly after which they both fell silent for a moment, each caught up in their own memories.

"_Guess what I got_!" Claire Bennet jaunted excitedly through the door of Elle's office, waving two rectangular pieces of paper out in front of her.

Elle innocently looked up from her work, and though she was not the least bit curious, asked "What?"

Claire plopped herself down in front of the desk grinning gleefully. "Two tickets to the party of the year!" She paused to allow Elle's excitement to manifest in an appreciative outburst.

"Uh huh." Elle returned to furiously scribbling in the file in front of her as Claire gaped despondently at her.

"Elle!" Claire shot out, finally catching the preoccupied woman's attention.

"Claire please, I have to get this done…"

"No you don't, listen…" she quickly dismissed Elle's protest, "I've got two of the most sought after tickets in the city for tomorrow night!" The excited college freshman smiled widely at the overworked company gal, but Elle did not return her younger friends enthusiasm.

"Ok," Elle began with a tired sigh, "what are you all high school pep squad over?"

Claire was slack jawed at Elle's lack of current events knowledge. "Do you not read the papers, watch the news, or listen to the radio?"

"Not unless I have to."

"It's only the biggest party in the city…" Claire dramatically rolled her eyes. "Senator Petrelli's 40th birthday gala at the family estate, _hello_."

What courtesy Elle had shown in letting Claire share her news simply vanished as soon as the name Petrelli entered the conversation. She immediately returned again to her scribbling.

"Hey none of that!" Claire snatched the pen from Elle's fingers.

"Claire!"

"What is with the party pooper act?"

Elle scoffed a little. "Ok, you honestly think I want to go to a Petrelli gathering, least of all one for Nathan Petrelli? What kind of drugs have you been experimenting with at college?"

Claire scrunched her nose up in annoyance. "Funny…It's not like we're going to hang out with the Petrelli family. We're just going to…enjoy the ambiance."

"Let it go Claire, it's not gonna happen." Elle reached across her desk then, trying to grab back her stolen pen to no avail. She relented, then slyly pulled another pen from a desk drawer making sure to keep it out of Claire's reach.

"Oh come on...Hey gimme that!" The younger girl jumped out of her seat, almost launching herself over the desk in an attempt to steal the new pen.

"Claire let go! I'm gonna shock you!" Elle warned.

For the moment Claire conceded defeat, and upon straightening up both girls noticed the letter opener jutting out from Claire's ribcage.

"Damn it," she complained while removing the object and watching the wound heal, "this shirt is new."

"Ok, time to go. Shoo." Elle motioned dismissively with her hands but the girl did not budge.

"No, I'm not going anywhere until you agree to go with me." Claire's tone was resolute.

Elle stared blankly at her friend, knowing she would not win this battle.

"Gabriel." Peter called out to his brother as they headed down the hallway straight toward one another.

Gabriel looked up from the file he had been intently examining. "Peter hey." He smiled, but then turned a reproachful eye toward his younger sibling and spoke in a stern brotherly tone. "You're not here to work are you?"

"Na, are you kidding. Week long vacation still in full effect. No I, uh, I actually came to talk to you."

"Oh," Gabriel wasn't overly surprised, "what's up?"

Peter nodded down the hall toward Gabriel's office and the two started back in the direction from which he had come. He closed the door behind him as Gabriel waited a cross between worry and curiosity.

"Ya gonna stand there chewing on your lip all day? Spit it out Peter."

"You already know what I'm gonna say." Peter said with as much compassion as possible.

Gabriel swiped the glasses from his face, examined and quickly replaced them. His stance turned guarded and defensive, arms folded tightly across his chest.

"For the last time Peter, I'm not interested in meeting any of the nurses, or x-ray techs, or physician assistants from any hospital crazy enough to have given you privileges." He had begun wearily enough, but kept himself from showing Peter any real disdain for having asked in the first place, adding a wry grin.

Peters' eyes fell closed shaking his head.

"Peter…let it go." Gabriel insisted definitively.

Peter watched with sad curiosity as Gabriel swiftly busied himself with straightening the already pristine desk. Gabriel's work load was often beyond overflowing, yet one would never think to guess by looking at the gleaming, often obsessive cleanliness of his office.

"When was the last time you took a weekend off like every other normal person? You enquire after my vacation…well, where's yours?"

"What do you mean? I'm taking off this weekend."

Peter rolled his eyes. "Today is Saturday."

Gabriel pursed his lips and flared his nostrils pushing out a sigh. "Right…and tomorrow I won't be here. That counts."

"Only reason you're going tomorrow night is because Mom tried to sweet talk you into it. When that didn't work she guilt tripped you."

"I don't like parties." Gabriel said quietly. In the back of his mind he knew it had less to do with the party, and more with whom the party was for.

"Maybe it wouldn't be so bad if you didn't spend the whole night hiding in the house by yourself, ya know? Maybe try spending some time amongst the people, get to know somebody a little bit." Peter was adamant, knowing his brother would find only concern behind words that sounded perhaps a bit more harsh than intended.

Now it was Gabriel's turn to roll his eyes. He looked at Peter, who recognized immediately the look his brother wore. Jaw set, shoulders angled forward like he was ready to pounce…it was Gabriel's "this conversation is over" posture. Their father had the same one. Peter however, had on last thought to leave with him.

"You work so hard, do so much for me, for Mom and Dad…you even help Nathan when he doesn't deserve it…but when it comes to helping yourself you're stationary. You're a great guy, special…and it would be nice if you let yourself, and maybe one person outside of the family, see that." Peter opened the door behind him, pausing before he walked out. "Don't let yourself be alone Gabriel. You might not realize it, but you're missing out."

"Missing out on what…" Gabriel shot back sarcastically.

"Being in love." The door clicked shut.

"Love." Gabriel sigh to the empty room.


	4. Glass Slipper

3

Glass Slipper

As soon as Elle had slipped on the slim black gown, pearl necklace, and matching bracelet that had once belonged to her mother, a strange sense of precariousness had begun to grow tentacles out from her gut, spreading to her every limb and digit. Usually a very adventurous girl keen to take on challenges at work, and in her off hours living with a motto of "I'll try anything once," the idea of this not wholly disagreeable unease over attending the party left her feeling a bit perplexed. A fan of the Petrellis' she most certainly was not but then, she knew rather little about them. On point of fact, she was raised to believe that they were the enemy and so never thought to question or even care about their existence in the city other than beating their agents to a special, which she almost always did.

In hindsight she wondered that she should have felt more intrigued than blasé about Claries' good fortune, but standing there in front of her mirror made up to look like the bell of the ball, a thought crossed her mind. Perhaps this was one adventure on which she was not prepared to embark. Outside her window Claire honked impatiently.

"Wow!" Claire whispered astounded. "Look at this place."

Elle was eyeing the security detail at the gate, managing to miss the general splendor of the lawn. White lights wound through every branch on every tree on the grounds, candles lined the cobblestone walk giving of a soft and flowing light that seemed to swim like water around their feet as they moved. No, Elle was much more interested in the devices the guards held in their hands, scanning invitations of every guest to enter the gate. Her heart quickened. It had never occurred to her that extra precautions would be taken for an event as big and as public as this one. She had not been thinking clearly, the realization of which only added to her present disquiet.

Claire smiled demurely, handing her invitation to the guard she found most attractive. The scanner beeped happily as it had for every guest before her. Elle took in a short breath and held it tightly as her invitation passed under the electronic device. Nothing happened. She felt the muscles in her fingers instinctively twitch at the prospect of the evening turning rather sour, rather quickly. A quizzical look passed over the features of the guard as he turned the invitation in his hand looking for some invisible interfering blemish he had somehow missed before. A second later the double beep of permission to enter resounded in Elle's' ears like a shrill drum. Calmly letting out her breath she thanked the guard and followed Claire into the lions den.

...

"Mother it's fine, will you please leave it alone."

"It's crooked. You don't want to go out there looking more handsome than any one of them in this fabulous Armani tuxedo and ruin it with a crooked bowtie. Now stop fidgeting." Angela tugged at Gabriel's tie in every attempt to straighten the stubborn accessory, finally relinquishing defeat and starting from the beginning.

Gabriel sighed and, standing a bit over six feet tall, easily stared over her head out onto the grounds of their home. He thought on how his nerves weren't exactly nerves but an odd mixture of apprehension and giddiness. Peters visit the day before had left Gabriel with a slight tingle in the back of his mind, as if he had started to remember something he had forgotten. All work and no play had made Gabriel more than just a dull boy; it had made him a disheartened one. Always so eager to prove his worth and usefulness to Angela and Arthur, he had thrown himself into the family business the moment he was old enough and neglected to hold onto to something he'd once had. Peter had been more than right; he had been spot on saying that Gabriel never gave himself the consideration he gave everyone else. The entire day of the party he had managed to avoid becoming a volunteer for preparations in any capacity by sitting in his home office trying to think of no one but himself. It was much more difficult than he had surmised, but the quiet time had been refreshing enough. He managed to talk himself into thinking the party wouldn't be so bad, that perhaps Peter was right and it wouldn't hurt to rub elbows with the closest thing New York had to a royal court for one evening.

Angela finished the tie, finally satisfied with its symmetry. Gabriel tried to remind himself that though they were some of the wealthiest and snobbiest socialites on the east coast, due to the sheer number of people in the crowd statistically there had to be at least one person he could stand conversing with. The trick, one he was not so adept at, would be to find that one person.

...

"You didn't tell me the invitations were electronically coded." Elle whispered tersely as the two young women mingled gracefully into the crowd.

Claire was busy enough smiling widely at the ambiance that Elle didn't insist on an answer. Instead she turned her attentions to scanning the surroundings for any signs of the bar. Finally she spotted it, a full length bar with four servers so none of the guests would have to wait for a drink, not to mention the army of waiters and waitresses milling about the crowd with trays of everything from cheese to martinis to cigars. By Elle's count there must have been over 200 guests comfortably spaced out amid the spectacular flower arrangements, catering tables holding ice sculptures, drink fountains, and tables upon tables of gifts. The estate itself was enormous enough that Elle had trouble getting an idea of where it might end, or what other exits might be available should she need one in a pinch.

"I'm getting a drink, do you want one?" Elle lightly nudged Claire out of her awe.

She looked rather surprised, "I'm only 18."

"So," Elle shrugged, "it's not like you're going to get drunk."

Claire hesitated.

"Really Claire, we are at a Petrelli family event without permission from your father and without my father knowing…and you're worried about drinking underage?" Elle was a bit exasperated.

"Hmm…they have wine don't they?"

"I'm sure they have wine from every corner of the world." Elle turned; perhaps too quickly in her zeal to reach the outskirts of the crowd, knocking straight into a waitress with a tray of empties save for one half filled glass.

The waitress of course apologized profusely as she fussed over dabbing the spilled wine down the front of Elle's gown. Elle was mostly mortified at the thought of people looking at her than the fact of the ruined dress.

"Really, don't worry about it…" She tried to say over the never ending apologies.

Finally the waitress stood up and leaned in close to Elle. "There's a bathroom just through the double doors over there, third door on your right. It's the bathroom the staff are allowed to use. You could clean up in there."

"Thank you." Elle replied. She looked toward the doors and figured what the hell. "I'll be right back. Get us drinks a while."

"Hello, not 21."

Elle looked at Claire in her strapless, dark purple, must have cost two months salary, Vera Wang gown, and smiled slyly. "Nobody is going to card you in that dress."

...

Gabriel heard his name called in a sharp, deep tone just as a firm slap landed on the back of his left shoulder. The hand remained there as Arthur sidled up next to him with a nod.

"Dad." Gabriel greeted with a return nod and slight tip of his glass.

A few moments of silence followed, Gabriel continuing his detached scrutiny of the crowd and Arthur quietly puffing on what Gabriel knew had to be a Cuban cigar.

"Did you finish up the Fahringer case?"

"Closed the file yesterday." Gabriel answered sipping his drink.

"Good, good. There'll be another one on your desk tomorrow morning."

"Really, another one?" Gabriel turned to Arthur as he became a bit more invested in the subject. "That's nine in the past two months, and now two in a row like this…"

"It happens." Arthur explained simply.

"Not like this…not so many in such a short period of time. Usually we get what, two maybe three a month…"

"Not everyone is interested in exploring their abilities, and some of them are just too cowardly to control them. It's just a temporary upswing in uncontrollables, it's not the first time we've seen this, and it won't be the last."

Gabriel stared at Arthur for a second wondering, as he often did, how much he actually cared about the people compared to the recognition of his position. He thought of how much alike Arthur and Nathan really were.

"Besides, we have you to handle it. I put my absolute faith in you son, you're doing a good job." Arthur gave Gabriel's shoulder a little squeeze. "And I'm glad to see you enjoying the party instead of sulking in the house. You spend too much time in your own little world Gabriel, I'd be happier to see you socializing a lot more than you do."

Somewhere in the crowd Arthur's name was called. His father seemed to search out the owner of the voice and moved toward it, effortlessly vanishing into the sea of formal wear. Gabriel looked down at his now empty scotch just as a waitress passed by. He quickly set his glass on her tray and turned back to the house. Out of the corner of his eye Gabriel say a blur of black and blonde sweep out in front of him about to enter through the french doors. A woman, slender, elegant, and looking nothing like a member of the staff. Her sweet scent hung in the air like tendrils of smoke as he stepped up behind her.

"Excuse me." Gabriel, surprised to hear his voice, called to her.

She froze mid step and hesitantly turned toward him. He started at her appearance, the face of an angel looking back at him with wide eyes and an almost frightened expression.

"You're not part of the staff?" He ventured.

"No…no I'm not. A waitress spilled a drink…"

"Oh, oh I'm sorry. Then by all means, please." He nodded toward the door, but she didn't move.

"Elle!"

"Claire, what's…"

"I just saw Isaac. We have to go." Claire took no notice of Gabriel.

"Claire…" Elle began to worn.

"He could tell your Dad, or worse he could tell my Dad that he saw us here. We have to go _now_." Finally Claire followed Elle's entranced gaze over her shoulder to see Gabriel standing almost directly behind her. "Oh…"

He had no idea what any of the words had meant, he in fact couldn't have cared less. His eyes were fixed on Elle as she stared back at him, no longer wearing the frightened expression. Thousands of lights illuminating the grounds, and her eyes seemed to sparkle brighter than had there been a million of them. Though it felt like a hundred blissful years had passed, it had been only seconds that they remained fixed on each other's gaze.

"Gabriel." Peter's voice came through as a muffled, far away noise.

"Oh my god…" Claire exclaimed under her breath as she grabbed Elle by the wrist and tried to pull her from the spell.

What snapped Elle out of it was not Claire's insistent tugging, or the volley of laughter from a group somewhere to her left. It was the entrance of Peter Petrelli into her field of vision. Dr. Peter Petrelli who had been the subject of many newspaper articles praising his humanitarian work. She recognized him immediately, giving Claire the second of cooperation she needed to whisk her away toward the exit.

"Claire stop pulling so hard."

"I'm sorry it's just…you saw who that was." Claire explained.

"Peter Petrelli." Elle said the name stiffly.

"And that guy, the one you were talking to…Peter called him Gabriel right?" Claire finally slowed down once they had passed through the gates.

Elle pictured in her mind the tall, slim man. Big, dark brown eyes almost begging her not to leave. "Yes, he said Gabriel." She answered.

"Nathan, Gabriel, and Peter…the brothers Petrelli." Claire stated simply, not realizing the knot of disappointment and longing twisting inside of Elle's chest.

...

Gabriel watched as the two women disappeared amidst the multitude of guests. Something on the ground where they had been standing seconds before caught his eye, an envelope sized, stiff piece of paper…an invitation. He moved to pick it up as Peter repeated his name.

"What's that?"

"An invitation." Gabriel absently replied. "She dropped it."

"Who?" Peter looked around for the mysterious "she".

Gabriel ran his fingers over the embossed invitation, imagining he could smell her perfume on it. Finally he answered. "Her name was Elle."


End file.
